


Constellations Between Us

by ghostuno



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Crime, Dianakko, F/F, Homicide Detective AU, I'll add as the fic goes on!, INTERPOL Diana, Mature for sexual themes and violence, Small town Akko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostuno/pseuds/ghostuno
Summary: A small town. A high-profile killer. A girl she never gave a chance.INTERPOL Investigator Diana Cavendish always wanted one thing: to get away. When a gruesome murder in Blytonbury opens a cold case from nearly a decade before, the young investigator finds herself back in the very place, with the very people, she tried to escape.But when she’s partnered with a rookie homicide detective from Blytonbury PD to solve a series of killings that are rapidly escalating, Diana finds that running only gets a person so far—and sometimes, it just brings everything full circle.
Relationships: Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Constellations Between Us

“Kuso,” Akko Kagari swore under her breath as she stared down at the body before her. The lack of blood did not take away from the horrific nature of the scene, the likes of which the new detective had never seen in her tenure at the Blytonbury Police Department. Sure, she had seen death before, plenty of times: auto accidents, long-dead bloated elderly with no family to notice them missing, stabbings and the occasional shooting where the culprit was never more than a stone’s throw away. But this crime was different altogether in that it could have happened to anybody—herself, even—and for no reason at all other than they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Just say ‘fuck’, for fuck’s sake. You’re in England,” Amanda O’Neill, Akko’s former partner from the few years she spent in uniform, said as she rounded the threshold from the apartment’s main hall to the open kitchen. She tugged a pair of latex gloves from her hands and shoved them unceremoniously into her front pocket. “Anyway, killer got in through the bedroom window by the fire escape. Looks like they used a window punch to gain entry. Glass everywhere. Must have put down a towel or linen to avoid getting cut. There’s fibers. Jas is bagging everything now.”

Akko frowned, kneeling next to the body. There was no blood. Death was strangulation, readily apparent by the ligature marks around the young woman’s neck. But that wasn’t the odd and altogether unsettling aspect of the scene. No, the strange part was the way the body had been arranged postmortem—in a strange and almost ritualistic fashion that made Akko shudder.

Lividity had already set in, indicating that the body had been face-down for at least a couple of hours before being moved. The mottled, reddened skin marred what was once the pretty face of a young Luna Nova University student. Akko stared into the girl’s eyes—once a bright blue, now dark and bloody and glazed in death—and wondered what was the last thing she’d seen before her life slipped away at the hands of another. Had it been her killer? Had it been instead a happy memory, or perhaps only blackness?

“Do we have a positive I.D.?” Akko asked after a moment, straightening up to look into the mischievous green eyes of her former partner, now best friend. The contrast of life and death did not escape her as she watched Amanda clear her throat and run her index finger down a notepad that was no doubt covered in illegible scribbles.

“Sophia McCann,” Amanda replied. “Third year student. Her roommate found her this morning when she came home from a, uh—” Amanda stopped short of finishing, heat rising to her freckled face. “A, uh, random hook-up,” she added at last, swallowing.

“A random hook-up, huh?” Akko rocked back on her heels, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me you didn’t know the name of this random hook-up before this morning.”

“Not her _last_ name,” Amanda grunted. “But let’s just say an alibi isn’t the only firm thing on this girl—”

“ _Amanda!_ ”

“A girl’s got needs!” she shot back. “Besides, how was I supposed to know the hottie from last night would walk in on a crime scene the next morning?”

Akko let her forehead fall into her palm and groaned. “Alright, whatever. Is Lotte—”

“Darn. No blood,” came a monotonous drawl from the entryway. “Why the hell am I here if there isn’t any blood?”

“Finally,” Akko said, rising and dusting off her jeans to greet Lotte Jansson, medical examiner, and Sucy Manbavaran, blood-spatter analyst—but, more importantly, her long-time friends and coworkers. “What took you guys so long? I’ve been waiting for _ever_.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Sucy moaned. Her eyes lazily scanned the scene. “Why do you need me here, anyway?”

“Look at this.”

Akko tugged a glove over her hand and lifted the girl’s shirt. On her stomach, a shape was carved deep into the skin.

**ζ**  
  
---  
  
“After death,” Sucy grunted. “Barely any blood. What’s that mean? Killer wanted a new canvas for new-age art?”

“Beats me,” Akko said, shaking her head. “Maybe it was supposed to be a number. I dunno.” She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at Lotte. “Any ideas?”

“Zeta,” Amanda chimed in. “That’s the Zeta symbol.”

The other three girls blinked at the redhead.

Amanda threw her hands out in front of her, palms up. “Don’t look at me like I’m smart or nothin’. I was in Zeta Tau Alpha at UT Austin. Greek symbols just kinda game with the territory, yanno?”

“But we don’t have Greek life here,” Akko mused, studying the symbol with ignorant interest.

Sucy’s eyes lit up as she glanced around the apartment. “Wait. Are there any more bodies? Bloody ones?”

Akko frowned as she glanced up at Sucy. “What? Do you _want_ there to be?”

“Well—”

“No, she doesn’t!” Lotte chirped, her elbow finding Sucy’s ribcage to end whatever she was going to say in a pained grunt. The short redhead stepped forward, adjusting her glasses on her nose as she knelt and peered at the body. “She’s been arranged.”

“Uh, yeah.” Akko chuckled nervously, tugging the girl’s shirt back down and rising. “I was wondering if you could make anything out of it.”

Lotte’s blue eyes flickered to and fro as she scanned the scene and the dead girl, a frown deepening on her face all the while. “Strangled.”

“Captain obvious,” Amanda muttered. “I’m so glad you went and got that doctorate to help us figure that one out.”

Lotte ignored her, kneeling and pointing to the ligature marks on the girl’s neck. “Wire, probably, based on how narrow it is. Homemade garrote, maybe.” Her gaze trailed over what was perhaps the oddest part of the scene and, with a quizzical pinch of her eyebrows, confirmed the very aspect that made Akko shiver. “Her bones have been broken. Likely postmortem, but I won’t be able to tell until I do an autopsy, and it might not make a difference if it was done so close to death. Hey, what does this mean, anyway? Do you think this was done on purpose?”

Lotte stepped back and the four girls stood, staring, at the corpse.

“Ugh. Creepy.”

The girl had been moved to face on her side, with her head tilted so her dead, lifeless eyes were staring straight toward the ceiling. Her legs had been placed one on top of the other, arranged as though in a sitting position, while tilted slightly back below the knee. Her arms stuck straight forward just under her chin, but had been snapped at the elbows to jut downwards, forming a haunting rectangle that made Akko suck in air with discomfort. Her ankles, too, formed an unnatural angle at the joint.

Lotte swallowed, nodding in that way she did, as though communicating with the dead in silent conversation that only she understood. “Did you get everything you need? If so, we can bag her and take her in and I can get started.”

“Uh, yeah,” Akko said, though she wasn’t quite certain. This was her first _actual_ homicide as a homicide detective—she’d only been in the department a couple of weeks—and she was completely unsure as to whether or not she had done everything she needed. “I think so. I took pictures.”

“Oh, pictures, yes. Very important.”

“Shut up, Amanda.”

“I’m just joshin’, Akko. Calm your tits. I’m gonna go see if Jas finished up in the bedroom and leave you to your hoity toity detective work.”

“It’s not hoity toity,” Akko grumbled as Amanda disappeared. “Whatever that even means.”

“Stuck up,” Sucy said, kneeling to study the body and the unnatural bend of the broken limbs. “Huh. Whoever did this was either really strong or really determined. Maybe both.”

“Well she coulda switched to this department _with_ me,” Akko mumbled. “Would be nice to have a partner, especially when some killer decided to drop a cryptic bomb on us right after Detective Finnelan retired. Jeez, I don’t even know where to start with this.” She frowned. “Maybe Finnelan was right when she told the Captain I couldn’t handle this job.”

“Did you check the place for any tools that might’ve done this?” Sucy asked, glancing up.

“Of course I did,” Akko replied, making a mental note to do just that. “I just meant as far as piecing this scene together, you know? Like—” She stopped, scratching the back of her neck and frowning.

“Well,” Lotte said, motioning for a few guys to move by to start handling the body, “You could start at the beginning, Akko. Besides, you helped solve that cold case last year, right? That’s something. You can do this.” She threw the detective a confident smirk that wavered only the slightest.

“Yeah, right,” Sucy mumbled, pulling a donut out of a box on the counter and analyzing it briefly before stuffing it into her mouth. Akko and Lotte just watched, staring in disbelief as their friend began eating the dead girl’s food.

“What?” she asked around a full mouth. She picked up the box and held it out as the body was carefully moved into the thick black bag before being lifted to a gurney. “You want one?” She nodded in the direction of the victim, her lips curling into a devious smile. Raspberry filling burst from the center of the donut, dripping from the corner of the girl’s lips like weeping blood. “She won’t miss ‘em.”

* * *

“ _Excuse me, Mademoiselle Cavendish.”_ The INTERPOL Homicide Unit’s clerk stopped just outside Diana’s office, his hand still poised from rapping on the open wooden door, before continuing. “ _The director would like to see you.”_

“ _Regarding_ ?” Diana inquired in her own fluent French. “ _I have a stack of cases requiring my immediate attention_.”

“ _I was not briefed on the circumstances_ ,” the clerk replied, nodding towards Director Holbrooke’s office. “ _But I was instructed to inform you that this case takes precedent.”_

 _“Very well_ ,” Diana said with a sigh. She carefully stacked her files and slid them into the secure drawer of her desk before standing and, with a respectful nod to the clerk, making her way to the Director’s office.

The Homicide Unit at INTERPOL’s main office in France was larger than the London detachment, though not by much. Perhaps the largest difference was the case distribution: since her move to France six months prior, Diana’s workload had nearly tripled in size. She had no complaints. In fact, the work demand was doing her a favor by keeping her so occupied. The list of things that she didn’t want to think about were nearly as long as the number of cases in her possession, and she was grateful that the focus left little room for her mind to stray.

Andrew’s repeated calls certainly hadn’t helped her transition.

She quickly shoved all thoughts of her ex-husband from her mind.

“ _You called for me, Madame?”_ Diana greeted, stopping at the threshold of the Director’s office and folding her hands behind her back. While Director Holbrooke was very welcoming in every regard, the formality of the occasion and the structure of INTERPOL’s hierarchy was not something that Diana was willing to compromise. Instead, she waited for the Director to beckon her inside with a warm smile and a motion for her to sit.

“ _Mademoiselle Cavendish. It seems as though your reputation in the London department was not at all a farce,_ ” Director Holbrooke said as she shifted in her own seat. A short woman nearly thrice her own age, Diana was sure that Director Holbrooke had more experience under her belt than any other employee under INTERPOL’s massive umbrella. “ _I’m grateful that you hit the ground running and for all the work you’ve done so far. Three of your cases have resulted in arrests just last week, if I recall correctly.”_

 _“Four, as of Sunday evening_ ,” Diana corrected, though sure to do so with a humble dip of her chin. The last thing she wanted to do was seem arrogant, especially in an atmosphere as demanding as INTERPOL’s main headquarters. She was just doing her job, after all.

 _“Ah, right. The Kerchowski case.”_ Director Holbrooke nodded, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “ _One your predecessor struggled with. Found him in Berlin, I recall? Very good.”_

“ _I heard you had something important for me, Madame?”_ Diana did not seek praise, nor did she find comfort in small talk. The Director had called her to her office for a reason, and if the case was as important as the clerk insinuated, time was not a luxury. “ _A new case?”_

 _“Not quite new, I’m afraid_ ,” Director Holbrooke replied. She reached across her desk, almost having to stand to do so, and seized a thick manila folder from the top of a messy stack of files. “ _A homicide was just reported to us from a small city in England. I believe you are well acquainted with the area. Blytonbury?”_

The last bit was more of a statement than a question. Diana sat up a little straighter, struggling to hide her dismay with indifference. “ _Blytonbury_ ,” she repeated, taking a breath. “ _Yes, I attended university there.”_ Her eyebrows scrunched together as she watched Director Holbrooke sift through the thick file. “ _Are the local authorities unable to provide adequate resources?”_

 _“Perhaps they would be if this was a single occasion. However, it appears to be more complicated than that.”_ Director Holbrooke lowered the file to the desk. Two glossy photos stared at Diana, and she stared back at them. One of a girl curled into a seemingly fetal position, with her arms bent at unnatural angles. Another seemed older, but the girl somewhere near the same age. She was posed in a way so that one leg was stretched forward while the other remained straight, while both arms were brought before her but bent eerily upward at the elbow.

On both, a strange symbol carved into the skin of their abdomen.

Director Holbrooke’s finger fell on the first.

“ _Yesterday, local authorities found Mademoiselle McMann deceased in her apartment. Her death has been ruled a homicide.”_ She pushed the photo forward. Diana took it, leaning back slightly in the very straight chair as she studied it. “ _Trace DNA was found beneath the victim’s fingernails. It matched DNA from a cold case—”_ She shoved forward the second photograph. “ _From 2012. Not only that, but both victims were attending Luna Nova University, and both were strangled.”_

Diana ran fingers through her long blonde hair, letting it tumble forward to hopefully shield some of the emotions she’d allowed to slip through her usually neutral expression. She remembered the first murder. Classes had been cancelled for the day, and the entire campus had gone into lockdown while the crime scene was scrutinized.

“ _And no arrests have been made_?” Diana asked. It was a pointless question, one that she already knew the answer to, but she was delaying the inevitable as much as she could.

“ _There is no match in the database,_ ” Director Holbrooke clarified. “ _It appears as though the killer has resurfaced. I’ve sent forward requests to the FBI and RCMP to see if any activity is linked to the scenes before you, but so far no agency has found any matches to our killer’s M.O.”_ Her smile drooped as she continued. “ _Blytonbury has requested assistance from INTERPOL. Their homicide detective is rather new in their position and there are no additional resources to allocate to a case of this magnitude.”_

Diana simply nodded. Both slayings took place in Blytonbury, and she guessed that the killer had not likely struck outside of that location. But eight years apart? The long period of dormancy was a question mark that hovered above the case itself. “ _There are quite capable investigators at the London location,_ ” Diana started, hoping to nudge the Director in that direction. “ _I would be honored to provide a few names, if you would like.”_

Director Holbrooke smiled in that way that made all hope dwindle from Diana. “ _In situations like this, I would prefer to send someone who would not immediately strike as an outsider in the community. You know the area. You know the case. Therefore, you will be assisting the Blytonbury Police Department in their investigation.”_

Diana squeezed her eyes shut. The last thing she wanted to do was return to Blytonbury, to Luna Nova University, to the world that she’d lived in and run from so long ago. There were too many memories there—none of them good, in her opinion—and she was finally settling into life in France where she knew no one and no one knew her.

But Director Holbrooke was her superior, and Diana had no leverage in which to argue a decision that had clearly already been made.  
“ _Your current caseload will be reassigned to Detective Mignone in your absence,”_ Director Holbrooke went on. “ _You are hereby assigned on interim to Blytonbury Police Department for the duration of their investigation.”_

Diana sighed. She stood. With one hand she shoved the photographs of the dead girls across the desk and nodded. “ _Thank you, Madame Holbrooke_ ,” she said with a flat voice, as she had nothing to be thankful for at all.

 _“I have a significant amount of faith in you, Mademoiselle Cavendish,”_ the Director added, rising herself. “ _And I assured Captain du Nord that we would be sending our most qualified investigator. She used to work for INTERPOL herself, though in our organized crime department. Give her my wishes, will you?”_

 _“I will,”_ Diana said, though her back was already turned in an attempt to hide her displeasure.

“ _And, Diana?”_

Diana blinked. The use of her name made her turn, regarding the shorter professional with interest flickering in bright blue eyes.

“ _I can tell that Blytonbury holds some tension for you. So, remember, the quicker you help apprehend a suspect, the quicker you can return to what you hope France holds for you.”_

Diana pursed her lips and nodded. If there was one thing she did not like, it was being seen. So she turned, took a sharp breath, and left.

She had packing to do, and she hoped that a light bag might foretell of a quick and painless trip to Blytonbury and back.

* * *

“But I don’t _need_ help,” Akko whined from where she stood across from Captain du Nord’s desk, one arm folded over her chest as she pouted at her superior officer. “You hired me for a _reason_ , right? Because you believed I could handle cases like this?” She paused, waiting for a response, and in receiving none continued. “I’ve already got a load of suspects and Amanda is holding one for me right now for an interview—” Her coffee sloshed in its mug as she carried on.

“Miss Kagari, I understand your grievances.” Captain du Nord sighed as she stood and paced behind her desk, her eyes floating from photos to awards to a bookshelf full of criminology, psychology, and sociology texts. “I do believe you’re fully capable of handling this assignment, but the existence of a similar case—a cold case, at that—” she added while leveling her eyes at her young detective, “means that we have attracted quite a bit of attention. We’re under a lot of pressure to solve this crime quickly, as there is no telling when this killer will strike again.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing, Miss Kagari,” the Captain continued. “INTERPOL is willing to lend us assistance for the duration of the investigation. This will give your career as a homicide investigator a huge jumpstart. Very rarely do investigators in units such as ours get to work with organizations as large and renowned as INTERPOL.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And who is it that you have in questioning?” the Captain suddenly asked, letting warm eyes fall on the aggravated girl before her.

“Sophie McMann’s boyfriend,” Akko said. “His alibi couldn’t be corroborated because he said he was home alone with his dog and—”

“And does this crime look like that of an intimate nature, Miss Kagari?”

“Well—” Akko took a breath, scrunching her nose in thought. “No, not really, I guess—”

“And isn’t your perpetrator left handed, according to the medical examiner’s report?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Is Henry Graves not right handed?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re thinking that it’s a possibility for your suspect to either be ambidextrous or to use his other hand to throw off the authorities, but I beg you to recall how the Luna Nova Psychology professor caught Mr. Graves cheating on a midterm by writing the answers on his wrist, whereas the answers were not even for the correct course _nor_ academic year.”

“Uh—”

Captain du Nord smiled reassuringly. “It’s best to rule him out immediately as being closest to our victim, which I’m sure are your intentions. But you have to remember that I’m under an immense amount of pressure, too, being Captain of this organization. This is a small town and already the community is extremely fearful of their very own neighbours.”

“I know,” Akko said with a sigh.

“Besides, Director Holbrooke said that she would send her best investigator, who happens to be an alumnus of Luna Nova in the same year as you. Perhaps you know her.”

Akko tilted her chin, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at her superior, who plucked up a printed email from her desk.

“Investigator Diana Cavendish,” she said.

“Dunno her,” Akko replied quickly, bringing her thumb and forefinger to her chin in thought. “Must’ve been one of those sit-in-the-back slacker types that just coasted,” she added, leaving out that she would’ve known somebody like that because she _was_ somebody like that.

“Well, INTERPOL saw something desirable in her, so hopefully she’ll be of some use to you.”

Captain Chariot moved around her desk and Akko, ignoring the shorter girl’s confused stare as she opened her office door. “Miss Cavendish?”

Surprised, Akko stumbled to the side, craning her neck to see around a massive file cabinet to the gap in the door as the INTERPOL investigator approached. She didn’t know a Diana Cavendish—or at least couldn’t match the name to a face—and she had really thought she knew most of her classmates, but…

The girl who stepped into the office was tall, thin, and _hellishly gorgeous_. Sleek mahogany boots led into fitted navy slacks and a white button-up with rolled sleeves that did very little to hide exactly how toned and slender the investigator was. Akko immediately brought her coffee cup to her lips, the ceramic striking her front teeth as she took a long gulp to cover the blush that had flooded to her cheeks.

“Akko, this is Diana Cavendish, from INTERPOL. She’ll be assisting you with your investigation.”

Akko peered over the lip of her coffee cup, finally letting her wide eyes meet the bright blue that gazed back. All at once, Akko knew who Diana was. There was no way she would ever forget those eyes, or that soft blonde hair and the way it curled around her face, or those pale, pouty lips that had curled in flirtatious laughter from less than a foot away in that dingy pub on the corner of Main and 22nd.

Her hand twitched and cream-heavy coffee dripped down the front of her v-neck as she stared into the eyes of the girl who ghosted her and said, “Fuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading. Feel free to add me on Discord at Ghostuno#5138 to talk all things writing and Dianakko!


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